


Face In The Crowd

by Suzie_Shooter



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Abandonment, Christmas, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Reunions, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months after sleeping with Yassen, Alex runs into him again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Face In The Crowd

The Christmas market was almost unbearably festive. The stalls were festooned with twinkly silver lights, the evening air laden with the spicy aroma of mulled wine and somewhere a choir was singing carols.

Alex hunched further into his jacket and glowered. He hated this time of year now he had no-one left to share it with. It just emphasised the feeling of being alone, and he tried his best to treat it like any other working day. 

Of course, when _They_ insisted on sending him to European towns that looked like they'd been showered in fucking glitter, this wasn't easy.

The smell of fresh pastries from the stall he was passing made his stomach growl, and he realised he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Not letting himself think about what he was doing, he slipped a cake off the closest tray and walked unhurriedly away. 

He was hardly short of money. And it wasn't as if he needed the thrill. He did it because he could, because it poked back at the bleeding heart of the season.

He wandered down to the river, leaned against the railing, the wooden backs of the stalls ranged behind him.

And then an all too familiar voice made him jump.

"I thought your lot weren't supposed to do that?" Yassen asked conversationally, coming to lean against the rail next to him.

"Who cares what I do?" snapped Alex.

"Normally you, I would have said."

"What are you doing here?" Knowing he sounded sulky and not caring.

"Just passing through," murmured Yassen, noncommittally. 

Alex scowled. "You're never just passing through." 

"Well - I could tell you... " Yassen let the sentence tail off suggestively.

"But then you'd have to kill me, right?" 

"You think I'm kidding."

Alex looked briefly startled then punched him on the arm and Yassen gave a snort of laughter.

"How'd you find me?" Alex muttered, thawing slightly.

"Only one in the crowd with a miserable expression. You stood out."

Alex glared. "I hate Christmas, okay?"

"That'd be why you're shoplifting Christmas pastries?"

Alex made a face then sighed, broke the cake in half, gave one piece to Yassen. He accepted it with a slight nod, and took a bite.

"Trust me then?" Alex half smiled for the first time.

"Looks like it." 

They ate in silence for a while, looking down at the black water spangled with the reflection of the multi-coloured lights strung along both banks.

"It's been a while," Alex murmured, when the silence finally was eating at him too darkly.

"Six months," said Yassen, absently.

Alex mustered a mocking smile. "You don't call, you don't write..."

He'd been hurt, that time, the job almost too much. Alex had a sudden vivid flash of memory, of leaning over a chipped and stained porcelain sink, spitting blood into the weak stream of water. 

\--

_It had been a wary truce. Their objective had been destroyed, leaving them with little reason for animosity, and Yassen had helped Alex from the rubble, dazed and hardly able to stand. He'd taken a beating, before that. The men responsible for that hadn't made it out._

Around him the old pipes in the dingy hotel juddered in the walls, setting up a teeth-aching, tuning-fork whine until Yassen leaned over and turned on the other tap, relieving the pressure. The water died to a mere trickle from both taps but the noise stopped and he was grateful.

There was no mirror, and he was grateful for that too.

Yassen took the rag of a towel, dipped it in the water, cleaned the weals across his face with businesslike care. 

Alex refused to wince. "Two more scars for the collection," he muttered, through clenched teeth. 

A brief smile from the Russian. "They're just scrapes. I think you'll live."

Yassen looked him over critically. Alex was starting to shake slightly, as if from cold. Yassen pulled the threadbare blanket off the bed and draped it round him. "Get some rest," he ordered, "It's what you need." He pushed Alex over to the bed. Alex went where he was directed, only looking up when Yassen made him sit.

"Don't leave me?" he asked, face flushed with shame but feeling so battered he was almost frightened to be alone.

After a moment's hesitation, Yassen sat next to him, slid an arm round his shoulders, pulled him into an almost-hug. "I won't," he promised, quietly. "Now, sleep." When Alex had obediently lain down without protest (which worried Yassen more than he was prepared to admit) he moved to turn off the light, and settled on the bed behind Alex.

Alex shifted instinctively closer, as if seeking warmth, and Yassen slid a comforting arm round his waist. 

\--

It hadn't ended there, of course. Now, Alex snuck a surreptitious glance at the man leaning by his side, remembering the way they'd woken.

\--

Alex had surfaced first, sore and aching, but feeling a thousand times better than the night before. Having taken stock of his aches and pains, he then became aware of something else. The fact that Yassen, apparently still asleep beside and behind him, was rather - interested.

Alex blinked. The slight pressure against the curve of his arse could be little else, and he stifled a laugh.

"Yassen? You awake?" he whispered.

There was a grunt and a yawn as Yassen woke up. Alex without turning round, picked out the exact moment Yassen realised the position he was in.

He froze, then pulled back quickly. Alex missed the warmth immediately.

Yassen cleared his throat and Alex smirked into the pillow; he'd never heard Yassen at a loss before. 

"I - apologise."

Alex rolled over. "It's okay. You were asleep. Can hardly blame you for that." 

Yassen stared at him, if possible even more thrown. He'd expected Alex to be horrified. Instead - he was amused, relaxed even.

Alex watched his expression, and grinned, then winced as the tight healing skin pulled painfully. He drew in a sharp breath and Yassen frowned, reached out for him automatically, touched his arm.

"You alright? How are you feeling?"

"Yeah," Alex gasped, sitting up with difficulty. "Though I think it can pretty much be summed up as _ow_."

"You look better."

"My face hurts."

"Means it's mending."

"Bollocks does it."

"You want me to kiss it better?" Yassen teased, and Alex laughed, then winced again

"Ow. Don't make me laugh. And yes," he added, daring him with his eyes. 

He didn't object though as Yassen called his bluff and leaned in to press the lightest kiss to the mark across his right cheek. Alex tensed for a moment, then slowly, deliberately, turned so the almost matching scratch on the other was facing him. Yassen kissed that too, just as lightly. Alex turned to look at him, hardly breathing, and stared into his eyes, wondering if he dared.

"They split my lip too," he breathed, ghost of a smile on his lips from the obvious line.

Hesitantly, they leaned together, neither sure it would happen. But their lips met, lightly, lingering a second too long to be merely teasing. They parted a breath, then came together again, firmer this time, the throb of his swollen lip mirroring a corresponding tug in Alex's groin. He slid his arms round Yassen and was held in turn, the gentle kisses becoming something harder.

Yassen laid him on his back, still kissing him, hungrily now, straddling him, although keeping his weight from Alex's bruised chest.

Even so, Alex started at the sudden intimacy, and pushed at his shoulder. "Yassen!" 

Immediately, Yassen pulled away, blank mask back in place. "I'm sorry. I thought you wanted this. I didn't mean to - "

Alex swallowed. "Wait. Don't just - " he pulled Yassen back down, lying next to him. "It was a bit sudden that's all."

Yassen let a glimmer of amusement into his expression. "Don't tell me I have to buy you dinner first?"

Alex smiled. "I'd settle for breakfast." He pulled Yassen back on top of him, found his mouth softly. "Afterwards..."

\--

"So. You fancy a drink?" Yassen was brushing crumbs from his hands, his jacket, dragging Alex back to the present.

Alex looked up, then away, suddenly bitter. "I don't drink."

Yassen raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "Do you drink coffee?" he asked instead, mildly.

"Yes." 

"Then would you like a - "

"No."

Yassen held in a sigh. "Fine." He turned and left without another word. Alex glared at his back then down at the water that seemed suddenly blurrier than it had before.

He stumbled back a pace and sank down onto the damp steps. The urge to cry out of sheer frustration rose up in his throat until it was almost choking, and he bit down hard on his lip until he tasted blood.

\--

That long-ago morning in bed with Yassen he'd found a peace and a release he'd forgotten was possible. 

He should have known it couldn't last.

All too soon the Russian had showered and dressed and left him, claiming he had a plane to catch. Had kissed Alex goodbye and walked out without looking back, leaving Alex cursing himself for a fool for ever thinking it might have meant more than just sex to him.

\--

That had been six months ago and he hadn't heard from him since. Hadn't even known if he was alive. Hadn't worried about him, no, absolutely fucking not, not ever.

And now he was finally here, and Alex had chased him away again, and he deserved to be alone because he was so _fucking_ stupid.

Someone sat down next to him on the step and he forced his breathing steady before he looked up.

Yassen. Blowing unconcernedly on a cardboard cup of coffee and staring distantly down at the river. 

"Just because _you_ didn't want one..." he murmured after a second, aware of Alex's eyes on him, but giving him time to master himself. 

Alex didn't know whether to laugh, cry or hit him.

"So why don't you drink?" Yassen asked after a while. Alex had shuffled closer, enjoying the warmth of his body and the smell of the coffee.

"I don't like not being in control," said Alex quietly.

"What if you were with someone you trusted?"

Alex gave a bitter laugh. "That's a fucking short list." Yassen started to say something else, but Alex laid a hand on his arm, making him look round.

"You don't have to get me drunk, Yassen." 

"Well. Good to know."

This time they held each other's gaze.

\--

This time the hotel was of a higher calibre, with cool white sheets and heavy brocaded drapes. 

Afterwards, they lay quietly, Alex wrapped in Yassen's arms.

Finally, it was Alex that broke the silence. 

"So how long before you go this time?" Resigned, rather than accusing.

Yassen gave a barely audible sigh, tightened his embrace for a second.

"We don't get a happy ever after Alex. We work for opposite sides."

"And that's a problem for you?"

"Not for me, no. But I rather think it would be for them."

"We could - "

"What? Run away together? Live on a desert island selling coconut milk? How long before either of us got bored with that Alex? This isn't just what we do, it's who we are. We can't run away from it, we'd be taking it with us."

"It's not _fair_!"

"Life isn't."

"Damn you!"

Alex rolled out of the bed and walked across the room, arms wrapped around himself protectively. He stared out of the window, down at the hard lights of the midnight town, and felt the loneliness seeping back in with the cold.

Yassen appeared in the reflection beside him, slid his arms around Alex's waist, kissed his neck.

Alex relented enough to rest his hands on Yassen's, leaned back into his body.

"What if I - ?" He left the sentence hanging, felt Yassen's shake of the head against his hair.

"Defected? You tried that once remember? I'm not sure they've forgiven you yet. Besides, you have too many morals."

Alex opened his mouth to object and Yassen forestalled him with another kiss to the shoulder. "I'm not saying that's a bad thing. It's - you."

"Well, you could - y'know."

"Turn over a new leaf?" Yassen did laugh then. "Half your security services have orders to shoot me on sight. I don't exactly think they'd welcome me with open arms."

"So what then? You're just going to melt away with the dawn and leave me - alone again."

Yassen pulled him closer, turning Alex to face him. 

"We may not have a lifetime Alex. But we have a while. Why not make the most of it?"

For a long moment Alex just leaned in his arms, breathing in the scent of him, drawing strength from the Russian's calm patience. Looked up to meet his eyes, then moved to whisper against his ear.

"Take me Yassen."

The arms around him tightened and the response was murmured against his hair. 

"Hard or slow?" 

"Hard." Alex kissed him, demandingly, then smiled against his lips. "And then slow," he breathed. And Yassen drew him back to the bed and laid him down.

\--


End file.
